


Face Down

by KyeAbove



Series: The Reinforcement of Agony AU Extras [8]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Blood, Friendship, Gen, Past Character Death, Pregnancy, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 06:40:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18889222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyeAbove/pseuds/KyeAbove
Summary: An alternate ending to Saints in The Reinforcement of Agony AU, where Norman’s speaker worked and Wally never died.





	Face Down

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Saints](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14054991) by [KyeAbove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyeAbove/pseuds/KyeAbove). 



> This contains almost all the first part to Saints, then diverges shortly before the second part.

The room was covered in ink. That wasn’t anything new. With how long and how much Joey ran that Ink Machine, the pipes were always bursting. It was Wally’s job to clean up as much as he could before Mister Connor would come in and repair or replace the pipes.

Wally stepped in the room, mop in hand, along with everything he’d need to clean this room. A bucket of water, acetone in his tool belt, an off-white rag, and his own two hands. If he had anything more, he would be grateful.

The room was covered in blood. This wasn’t anything new either. Wally always told himself that the blood was animal, part of Joey’s sick game, even if that was just as bad. Wally still had faith in Joey.

Joey wouldn’t kill another human being.

People disappeared because they were safe at home, unable to put up with Joey’s declining state of mind. Or they’d run off for other reasons. Just because Wally couldn’t contact Norman, it didn’t mean…

Wally missed Norman. Every since Henry left, Wally had been lonely, even in the company of others. Norman seemed to know who was truly lonely, and sought them out.

Norman had brought Wally coffee, and talked to him about any sort of thing Wally wanted to talk about. Wally had been over for dinner at the Polk household several times. Norman had taught him how to ride a bicycle, and just made a good friend day to day. Wally might have even eventually worked up the courage to call him Dad.

Even though Wally was sure the blood was animal, he hoped that this blood wasn’t from Norman. That Joey hadn’t been holding him captive somewhere, and this had been his badly ended escape.

It took multiple trips, dumping buckets of ink and blood, and his knees were bruised from how hard he had to scrub the floor. It had to be perfect. Joey had said the room had to look presentable. Wally was good at cleaning up blood.

Soon, the room was no longer covered in ink and blood. Wally placed his bucket under the still dripping pipe. Mister Connor had rerouted the ink elsewhere, putting more strain on the other pipes, but stopping the leak here. Wally’s job wouldn’t be done until the final bucket of ink had been dumped, but for now he could leave.

The studio was so dreary now. With all the disappearances, the frowners, the unfinished animations, and Joey’s ever growing madness, it wasn’t the place Wally had fallen in love with. It was missing so much. It was missing the life it once had.

All because one man had died. It wasn’t fair.

Nothing in life was fair. Wally had learned that as a child, but the lesson never stopped happening.

There wasn’t much for Wally to do for now, so, guided by his heart, he set off for the projector booth. Maybe he could find peace there, even if it was temporary and fake.

Tears welled in his eyes as he walked, and Wally ’s heart felt heavy, with an accompanying sinking feeling. Wally knew he had to get out of this mess, before he got too deep. Before his hope in Joey’s innocence faded. Wally wanted to find Norman, know he was safe, alive.

Wally paused at the first step to the projector booth. The projector was running, it’s familiar wirl, drifting down the stairs. The orchestra wasn’t practicing or recording. Someone was up there alone.

Someone!

Hope settled into Wally's body, and he raced up the stairs, pleading with any higher power that it was…!

The projector Wally was thinking of wasn’t running. Instead, the sound and now light was coming from the projector placed on a too humanoid body. The projector clicked and cast a glow onto the room below, and the body below it shuffled, and crunched from all the items that were a part of it. Shaking fingers tried putting a new film reel into the silent projector.

Wally screamed bloody murder, and tried to run. Tried, until a broken voice caught his hope and fears and Wally turned back to the projector creature. 

“Wally.” The creature repeated, a voice, a familiar voice, coming through the speaker upon his chest. 

Breathing heavy, the entire stress and confusion and his usual nausea caused Wally to throw up on himself. Wally heard the creature approach, and with a shaky hand it, he, offered Wally a handkerchief to wipe the vomit from his chin.

“Wally...it...me…” The voice sounded through, testing the speaker. 

“Norman? It’s...it can’t be...it is you?” Wally asked in a small voice, mind swimming with questions and fears and confusion. 

Norman rested a hand on Wally’s shoulder. 

“Breath. This state of yours isn’t good for you or the baby.” Wally allowed Norman to lead him to the chair. Wally held his stomach, and whimpered. Norman kneeled down and start caressing Wally’s hair. 

“How?” 

“Joey.” 

“Why did he…?” 

Norman’s hand fell and his fist clenched. “I caught him...him and Johnny…where’s Johnny? I need to kill that bastard.” 

This left Wally confused and fearful for Johnny’s location. That is, until he looked down on himself, and at the bits of blood on his clothing. “I think someone beat you to it…”

“Oh?”

“I just cleaned up a lot of blood in the pipe organ room…” 

Norman’s body language showed he was even more angry at that. “He has you cleaning up blood?! His murders?!”

“So...he really is killing people.” 

“Yes.” 

Wally started crying at that, feeling used and lost. “Would he have killed me too?!” 

“No doubt, given enough time.”

Wally screamed in frustration, and then flung himself at Norman, hugging him and crying. 

“I don’t want to work here anymore.” 

Norman stroked his head once more. 

“Then leave. Never return. Save your family and friends, if its not already too late for them.”

“You’re both. Is it too late for you?” 

“No.” Norman said with complete confidence. “It's never too late to go punch Joey in the face.” 

Wally’s cries turned sniffles and then he looked up at Norman. “I think I’d like that.” 

“Then it's agreed on. We go punch Joey and find you a new job.” 

And for the first time in a long time, Wally felt completely at ease and knew finally things would be okay.


End file.
